


Technicalities

by Ephermeralk



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coming Untouched, M/M, M/M Sex, Rimming, first time (ass virginity), reluctant bottom!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 08:48:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1598864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ephermeralk/pseuds/Ephermeralk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since Dean started a relationship with his brother, he’s topped—because Sam likes to bottom and it’s stupid to change things that aren’t broken. But tonight, his brother wants something else from him, and Sam’s not going to stop until he gets it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Technicalities

**Author's Note:**

> A/n: Written for [](http://smpc.livejournal.com/profile)[**smpc**](http://smpc.livejournal.com/) as a pinch-hit. A million thanks to [](http://skeletncloset.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://skeletncloset.livejournal.com/)**skeletncloset** for letting me pick her brain for ideas, and then twisting her prompts into a practically unrecognizable fic. And for the super quick beta! ♥

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” Dean asks his brother, setting down a cold beer in front of him. They’ve just finished ganking a couple of zombies, the bar’s got cherry pie on special, and Dean totally plans on getting laid after drinking a few cold ones. All of that makes for a good evening. Exceptional even. Except for the fact that Sam’s got his signature bitch expression plastered across his face.

Sam shrugs in answer to Dean’s question, gazing across the room. Eyes searching out something other than him. Turning to look, Dean finds nothing. Definitely not anyone more attractive than him. Not that Sam’s eyes have ever been the wandering type.

“Earth to Sam,” he says, waving a hand in front of his face. It gets slapped away by his brother’s larger one.

“Dude. What’s wrong? They don’t have your type of salad?” Dean asks with undisguised sarcasm. His brother has a tendency to act kind of like a girl; he can get worked up and pissy over the most inconsequential matters. It’s always been up to Dean to remind him how to be a man.

“You know, you could try being a _little_ empathetic every now and then. It wouldn’t hurt,” Sam says, his mouth pulled up into a sneer. Dean wishes it was a smile instead. His brother has dimples that rival Texas in terms of area, and his smile lights Dean up from the inside, out. However, being on the receiving end of said expression is obviously off the table tonight for a reason that Dean doesn’t understand. Yet. Sam’s likely to run his mouth off at any minute.

Dean shrugs away Sam’s annoyed comment in the manner he has for their entire lives. “You’re my brother. Isn’t the whole point of us fucking that we don’t have to pretend with all that healthy relationship crap? I swear, one of these days you’re going to walk in the door asking what I think about your haircut.”

“I don’t need to ask, Dean. I already know your feelings about my hair; they haven’t changed in the last fifteen years,” Sam says grumpily, still not looking at him.

“Well, thank God for the small things.”

The conversation stalls then, and Dean makes his way through most of his glass before he notices that Sam hasn’t touched his. Usually Sam guzzles his beer before groping and begging Dean to fuck him. Sometimes Sam can’t even wait until they’re back at the motel. He’s all hands and beer breath in the men’s room or the back alley until Dean can’t focus beyond pulling down his little brother’s pants and shoving inside. So Sam not downing his alcohol? Yeah. That definitely hinders Dean’s evening plans.

“Alright. The bitchiness is usual. But you not drinking? Now I know something’s up.” Dean pauses for a moment before asking, “…wait, you’re not pregnant, are you, Sammy?”

Sam blushes and turns away, brushing his long hair out of his eyes.

“Fuck you.”

“Actually, I was planning on fucking _you_ ,” Dean says with a full smile plastered across his face until the edges of his mouth literally hurt. When Sam doesn’t respond to his jab, Dean raises an eyebrow, letting Sam know that he’s not letting this one go. “C’mon, dude, spit it out. I know you want to.”

“Fine. It’s just that—it’s been months now since we started this, right?” Sam asks, gesturing between the two of them. The answer he wants is obvious and Dean obligingly gives it to him.

“Mhmm. And?”

“Well. It’s that. Just that, really. We’ve had sex in the majority of the lower 48, and you’ve kind of been hogging the top position,” Sam states, taking up a defensive posture, his jaw ticking in the off-green fluorescent light. The muscles in Sam’s shoulders stretch the fabric of his plaid shirt when he crosses his arms and leans forward. It makes Dean’s dick chub up in his pants, regardless of the fact that his brother is clearly unhappy.

“And?” Dean asks, slightly confused as to what the problem actually is. Sam fucking loves to bottom. He’s the one who suggested it back when they had first started having sex.

“And I’d really like to top for once.”

At that, Dean laughs. “You? Top? Are you serious? You love my dick. I love the way you look with my cock shoved all the way up your ass. It’s not like you don’t get off on me nailing you.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I do love your dick in me, but you’ve also got a pretty ass, and I’d like to try it out for once,” Sam practically whines.

Dean shakes his head. “Nope. Not happening. I’m not rolling over just because you think I’m pretty.”

He receives a sharp kick in the shins for that remark.

“Sharing’s important, Dean. You taught me that back when I was like two.”

“And it was great when I wanted your Legos. But it doesn’t apply to either the Impala or my ass. The answer’s no.”

“Fine,” Sam says, taking a long drink of his beer. “If you think bottoming is so beneath you then I’m cutting you off until you agree to try it.”

Sputtering into his beer, Dean watches Sam’s face for any signs that he might be joking. Sam, however, has the same feisty, not backing down look that he’s been fine tuning since he was in diapers.

“I’ll just get it somewhere else then,” he says, scanning the room for potential candidates. No one even comes close to Sam’s level of hotness. Not that they’re particularly bad looking, it’s just that Sam rates about an 11 on a 1-10 scale, and most of these people don’t make it past a six.

Sam raises an eyebrow, smirking as if he knows exactly what Dean’s thinking. Which he probably does. It’s been just the two of them driving, hunting, and fucking for almost a year now.

“Dammit, Sam. Isn’t our life full of enough crap without you deciding that neither of us should get laid?”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure that it’s _you_ who’s deciding. All you have to do put your ass in the air once we get back to the motel and sex is back on the table. You can even fuck me right after I’m done.”

Dean seethes into his beer for a while, mulling it over while Sam hums off-tune to a _Journey_ song playing in the background. Eventually he decides that the promise of fucking Sam later is worth the few minutes of pain that he’s going to endure before his brother blows his load. Sam’s probably not going to last long anyways.

“Alright,” Dean says, practically picking Sam up by his jacket collar. “If I let you fuck me tonight, everything goes back to normal?”

“All I’m asking for is once every couple of months. I’m not saying you have to enjoy it.”

Laughing, Dean pushes his brother out the door. The quicker that Sam can get over this new desire the better, in Dean’s opinion. “So much for the empathy there, Sam. Glad to know I’ve got a brother who _cares._ ”

 

\--

 

They make it back to the shabby, sunflower-themed motel room in record time. Having sex with his brother in a family-run establishment out in the heartland of America always gives Dean a perverse sense of pleasure. It’s an appropriate ‘fuck you’ to the nation he saves on a consistent basis that still makes him hide his love for Sam. He knows deep down, it makes his brother smile on the inside, too.

Upon getting back, Sam immediately heads for the shower mumbling something about zombie gunk on his clothes. He gives Dean a smirk before he closes the door, just the hint of an offer. Usually Dean is all over tapping Sam’s wet ass in the shower. This time, however, Dean makes a point not to join him. Sometimes it’s best not to give Sam more ideas than he already has floating around in that Cro-Magnon-esque forehead.

Dean’s still unsure about this whole letting Sam fuck him thing, so he fidgets around the room while his brother’s in the bathroom. Deciding that the best plan is pretend to sleep while Sam does his thing— quickly, he hopes—Dean strips off all of his clothes except for his briefs and lays face down on the bed.

“Dude. What are you doing? I thought we were going to fuck,” Sam questions when he opens the door, water drops still running down his torso. Dean’s always liked the smell of his brother after a shower. Somehow Sam always manages to maintain his own rich scent which stimulates Dean’s olfactory nerves to the point of arousal, even after scrubbing with low quality motel room soap. Hotness does smell better. His brother is living proof.

“I’m waiting for you to get this over with so that I don’t have to put my ass on display for another couple of months.”

“No,” Sam says forcefully. “I don’t want it like that. It’s not worth it to me if you’re just going to lay there like a corpse.”

“Well I’m not going to beg for your dick, Sam. You get this, or nothing.”

“Then I don’t want it.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Dean says, scrambling to his knees and turning around to face his brother. “What the hell do you want then? Me to fake an orgasm for you?”

Sam narrows his eyes. “Pretty sure that’s impossible since you’re male. Look, I’m not asking for much. Just a little participation,” Sam says as he sits down on the bed, dropping his towel to the floor. His brother is already hard, and Dean’s seriously thinking about reevaluating letting Sam inside his ass, pretend asleep or not. Sam’s dick looks infinitely bigger now that Dean’s aware of exactly where his brother wants to put it. He backs away as Sam moves forward on the bed towards him.

“You know what, Dean? I think you’re afraid you might enjoy it.”

“Enjoy it?” he laughs hollowly. “Ain’t _no way_ I’m enjoying having that monster you call a dick in my ass.”

His brother dismisses his comment and makes his way to sit against the headboard, patting his thigh in an unmistakable motion for Dean to come over. Like he’s a dog. It makes Dean growl in response.

“C’mon, Dean. I wanna make out for a little while.”

Dean makes no move to sit down on top of Sam’s dick.

“I’ll blow you afterwards,” Sam entices, licking his lips.

“I hate you.”

“No, you love me, big brother. Always have.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t hate you sometimes, too,” Dean says but he crawls over anyways to straddle Sam’s dick.

It’s a weird feeling, climbing into Sam’s lap. Usually Dean doesn’t notice the three inches and about forty-pounds of muscle that his brother’s got on him these days, but in this position, Dean feels goddamn tiny.

“Fuckin’ Sasquatch,” Dean mutters, mostly to himself as his brother’s hands reach around and grab onto his hips, grinding him down against Sam’s erection. Dean’s felt Sam’s dick in his hands, choked on it more times than not, but when it comes down to it, he still has one of his virginities intact. Technically. And Dean would prefer to keep it that way. The thought of Sam putting _that_ in his ass is almost enough to wilt his half-erection, until Sam leans forward and presses his lips against his own.

Dean can’t help but moan because Sam’s always been a good kisser. He doesn’t shove his tongue down Dean’s throat, just slides it into his mouth with the right amount of pressure. Feeling out every bump on his tongue, finding every chip in his worn enamel.

His hips start their own movement then, thrusting in tight circles as Sam’s dick rubs up against the cotton of his briefs. Dean can already feel a damp spot starting to form, making it obvious that his brother’s already leaking at the thought of being inside of him.

Dean pulls back, slightly out of breath. He can still get out of this situation without Sam realizing that he’s never had his ass cherry popped.

“Hey…uhm…I think that she-devil-zombie must have clocked me harder than I thought. I’ve got this killer headache and I really don’t think I’m feeling up to getting pounded tonight. So, I’m just gonna pop some Aspirin and hit the other bed. But maybe tomorrow, Sammy, if I’m feeling better.”

Sam licks a stripe up his neck, biting gently at his jaw line and pressing his dick harder against Dean’s ass, making his point clear.

“Yeah. You’re right. Blue balls totally suck. How ‘bout I suck you off, instead? I mean, I heard at the bar tonight that I’ve got the best cock-sucking lips this side of the Mississippi,” he says, trying to entice his brother to fuck his mouth instead. He can often make Sam come panting and babbling in under fifteen minutes. Right before his jaw starts to get sore. It’s a win-win solution except for that Dean feels his brother shaking his head ‘no’, at the same time one of Sam’s hands grips his dick over the fabric of his briefs. His traitor of a cock hardens even more, straining to come out of the elastic waist band.

“You want to know what I think?” Sam asks. His voice must have dropped close to an octave since the last time he spoke. It’s still not as deep as Dean’s, but it’s nearing the mark. A slight shiver runs down Dean’s exposed back, where his brother’s hands are splayed across the entirety of his lower ribs.

“Unless it’s got to do with sleeping, not really,” Dean snarks back, even though he’s still humping his brother’s oversized cock on instinct.

“I think that you’re afraid,” Sam says anyways, in a taunting tone. The kind Sam uses when he wants to bait Dean into a fight. “Are you scared of my dick, big brother? Worried it’s going to hurt that pretty ass of yours which hasn’t seen any action since we started fucking?”

“Dude. I just killed _zombies_. I’m not afraid of a little bit of cock.”

Sam thrusts up, poking his dick into the middle of his underwear with surprising accuracy. Dean can almost feel the tip bumping against his cloth covered rim.

“A little?” Sam asks with a leer.

“All right. A lot of cock. But I’m still not afraid of it.”

“Then why do you still have your underwear on?”

“It’s cold.”

“You’re sweating.”

“It’s more comfortable.”

“That obviously hurts. It’s not going at the right angle. I can practically hear your dick screaming to be let out, Dean.”

“My cock’s fine where it is.”

Sam palms his own dick for a minute, slicking his fingers up with pre-come before one his hands enters the back of Dean’s waistband, searching in between the muscles of his ass for his hole.

He wriggles the tip of his index finger in before Dean stops moving all together. Sam’s finger in his ass feels uncomfortable and goddamn weird, and Dean wants it out, right the fuck now. Not that he’s going to tell Sam. He doesn’t want to spend the rest of the night being laughed at because he couldn’t take even a finger.

“Why aren’t you bearing down?” Sam asks, confusion evident in his voice. “It’ll go much easier if…oh my God…you’ve never done this before, have you?”

“Uhm…” Dean shifts guilty in Sam’s lap. The movement works his brother’s finger deeper inside of him even though he can’t meet Sam’s eyes.

“Fuck that’s hot. It’s been so long since I popped someone’s cherry. Think of that. I’m gonna be your first,” Sam stops for a second to growl threateningly, “and your only, of course. So Dean, you gonna give it up for me tonight?” he asks, worming his finger in a little bit deeper.

“Not really sure I wanna be broken in by what you’re packing.”

“So you _are_ afraid of my dick!” Sam exclaims in triumph.

“Whatever. I just don’t want to ruin my beautiful, tight, ass.”

“Not ruining it, Dean. Making it even more pretty. Can’t imagine how gorgeous it’s gonna be with my come leaking out.”

“Most likely it’s going to be fucking uncomfortable as hell.”

Sam pushes Dean off of him then, getting off the bed and returning with a bottle of lube.

“Change of plans. You’re going to enjoy every _minute_ of this.”

“Doubtful.”

“Ass-up. Now.”

Dean obeys, because Sam kind of sounds like Dad when he gets all growly, and sometimes it’s too hard to refuse his early conditioning.

“Good boy,” Sam tells him, running his hands up the back of Dean’s pale thighs. Up to where his legs stop, and then even more until Sam pulls his briefs down and parts his ass cheeks. Dean can feel him staring.

“So big everywhere else, yet you’re so small here. Can’t wait until I fill you up. You’ll love it, Dean. Just wait.”

Dean really doesn’t want to wait, though. He’s ready for this to be over so that he can turn around and fuck Sam until his brother’s sore, and once again afterwards for good measure.

Then Sam licks his hole; a broad flat swipe which makes Dean stick his ass out even more. Anything to feel warm, wet heat against his body. Sam obliges readily, alternating between licking around his entrance and sticking his tongue inside, urging his inner walls to give up a bit of their tension. Encouraging them to make room for his dick. Dean can honestly say that Sam’s tongue makes a good argument. Rimming feels fucking fantastic.

By the time that Sam pulls his face away from his ass, Dean’s cock is emitting steady drops of pre-come, making a fair sized wet spot on the comforter.

“Pretty, good, huh?” Sam asks, pride evident in his voice.

“Not bad.”

“You’re fucking dripping.”

“So are you and my tongue isn’t up your ass.”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

“Nah, I think that honor goes to you tonight, Dean.”

“You know. I’m starting to think that you’re scared of sticking it in me after that _you’re going to love every minute of it_ speech you gave earlier. Worried you can’t get me off, little brother?”

Sam, of course, takes the challenge, and the loud squelch of lube coming out of the bottle resounds throughout the otherwise quiet room.

“I don’t want to hurt you, so we’re going slow tonight, whether you want it or not.”

“Well, don’t blame me if I fall aslee—“ Dean doesn’t finish his sentence because the air gets knocked out of his lungs when Sam shoves two fingers in him.

“You call that slow?” he growls into the pillow.

“Ain’t nothing compared to how big my dick’s gonna feel.”

At that, Dean tries to move up the bed and off Sam’s prodding fingers, but Sam uses his other hand to grab on to his hips, pulling him back. As he slides further onto his brother’s hand, Sam’s fingers run over a spot that sends a shiver of pleasure up his spine.

“Ah. There it is. Feels fucking fantastic doesn’t it?” Sam asks smugly as he runs the tip of his index and middle fingers over what Dean assumes is his prostate gland.

“‘S alright,” Dean grunts, not wanting Sam to get any ideas about him enjoying taking it up the ass.

“Say what you want, Dean, but you’re getting off on this,” Sam says, right before adding a third finger. Dean stops moving completely and focuses on breathing. The stretch is more than he thinks he can handle for a couple of seconds before his rim eases up and lets his brother inside.

“Doing really good,” his brother says, and Dean can tell from his tone that Sam’s on the edge of toppling over. “I’m going to take my fingers out now and fill you up with my dick instead. Okay, Dean?”

Dean makes a muffled noise into his pillow. He’s still not sure that he wants Sam’s porno dick in his ass, but Sam wants it, so Dean’s going to suck it up and give Sam yet another piece of himself. Occasionally he worries that someday there won’t be anything left to give.

“Dean. I asked if that was okay. I want your ass, but if you want to wait, we can try it again another night.”

He’s half-tempted to take Sam up on the offer but on second thought he doesn’t want to do this again for a while. Dean knows that Sam will push and push until he gives in. Better to get it over with sooner.

“Yeah, Sam. It’s okay.”

Less than a second later Dean feels the head of Sam’s dick pressed up next to his hole. The lubrication makes it slide over his rim as Sam teases him, just barely nudging his cock inside.

“’K Dean. I’m going to push in now. I want you to breathe out and bear down. Can you do that for me?”

“Mhmm.”

The pressure starts then, more than all three of Sam’s fingers until the head’s made its way inside completely. Sam goes painstakingly slow, and Dean wonders if it wouldn’t be better to have one quick shove. It seems to take forever until his brother’s balls touch his ass, and Dean’s panting with exertion by the time Sam’s all the way in. He’s surprised to find that his own erection hasn’t gone down in the least. Sam rests his forehead on Dean’s neck for a moment, pressing a kiss into the stop of his spine before saying, “I love you.”

Dean doesn’t get a chance to respond because Sam pulls most of the way out and then thrusts back in, giving Dean’s forearms comforter-burn as he’s rocked up the bed by the sheer force of Sam’s movement. His brother starts up a steady rhythm and before long he’s hitting Dean’s prostate every thrust or two. He pushes back against Sam when that happens. His brother notices, of course he does, and soon Sam’s angling his hips until he’s rubbing Dean’s prostate more often than not.

“Fuck. You feel so good wrapped around me, Dean. How did we not try this before?”

Dean can’t speak anymore. The pleasure is making his hips hump the air and the fact that his cock’s not touching anything is making him crazy. He needs to get lower, rub up against the bed. Anything to get a little friction.

“Look at you squirming on my dick, Dean. See, I knew you’d love taking it up the ass just as much as I do.”

“Why don’t you shut your fuckin’ mouth and finish up,” Dean growls, even though he wants Sam’s dick to keep tugging at his insides.

When it comes, Dean’s orgasm takes him completely, 100% by surprise. He denies it until Sam starts humping him frantically and finally remembers that he’s got a dick too, reaching around to grasp onto his slowly softening cock.

“Ouch. Stop it,” he groans, because Sam’s continued assault on his prostate as well as on the sensitive skin of his dick is too much now that he’s come.

Sam lets go quickly, not bothering to question, hips stuttering through his final erratic thrusts before collapsing on top of Dean.

Dean allows him a moment of rest before he moves to lay down, slowly sliding all of Sam’s dick out of his body until the head comes out with a gush of his brother’s come. It feels just as odd coming out as it had going in. Dean’s left with this strange feeling of emptiness, like he never realized his body needed another piece until Sam put his dick inside of him. And now that it’s gone he aches to have it back. At least for a little while longer. Not that he’s going to tell Sam.

“Dude. Sam. Towel. Now,” he states, once it’s obvious that Sam’s on the verge of passing out. He’d come pretty hard judging from the amount of spunk Dean can feel dripping down his legs.

“Alright,” Sam agrees.

Sam leans over Dean, cleaning his own come from Dean’s thighs. His brother rolls him over then, pausing to stick two fingers in the puddle of come soaking into the linen.

“Dean? Did you…?”

“No,” he says defensively.

“Oh, you totally did. You came from my cock in your ass.”

“Whatever,” he says, because he’s too tired to argue. Sam can have his moment of glory. Dean definitely plans on taking it out on Sam’s ass tomorrow.

His brother snuggles in behind him, dropping his hand over Dean’s waist and tucking him in close. Dean can feel sleep coming easily, faster than it usually does. Even after a bottle of good whiskey and Sam underneath him. Yeah, he’ll still put up a fight about bottoming, he’s the older brother after all and topping is his prerogative. But Dean thinks if feeling this good is the result, he might give in a little bit quicker the next Sam asks.  


\--END--


End file.
